


Bleeding Out

by QueenDollopHead



Series: Zukka Week 2021 [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Discussion of Mental Health, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Emotional Abuse, M/M, Ozai's A+ Parenting Skills, Post-Canon, Zukka Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenDollopHead/pseuds/QueenDollopHead
Summary: Zukka WeekDay 6:Disability or Chronic Pain- Centric///Hurt/ComfortIt’s been a year since the end of the war. Zuko receives semi-regular updates about Azula’s progress, but one particular letter reminds him–noneof this is her fault.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209653
Comments: 16
Kudos: 91





	Bleeding Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks once again to [snymph12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12/pseuds/snymph12) for beta-ing! The true Champion of Zukka Week.

Sokka finds Zuko hunched over his desk, his head in his hands.

He’s found him like this many times over the last year, ever since Zuko became the Fire Lord. 

It never ceases to drive a knife through his chest– his boyfriend works so incredibly hard every day to try and make the Fire Nation a better place, but Zuko just never feels like it’s enough.

Every other day there's a new emergency– trade disputes, education laws, border contentions– that needs Zuko's attention. Sokka, as Ambassador and his friend, does his best to ease Zuko's daily caseload, despite Zuko's insistence that he doesn't need the help. Sokka knows that even when he manages to corral Zuko to bed, there are still many nights where he does not manage to fall asleep.

Sokka briefly wonders if his present mood is connected to his disagreement with his head of agriculture, but he quickly dismisses the idea. 

This seems personal.

It’s not a great day leg-wise, but rushing across the room to get to Zuko takes priority.

Sokka lays a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Hey…” he says quietly, so as not to startle him. “What is it?”

Zuko stares at the unrolled parchment in front of him. “Azula,” he says.

“Is she okay?”

Zuko nods, but doesn’t raise his head. He knows that Sokka has mixed feelings about Azula, but if something upsets Zuko, then Sokka can’t let that stand.

If the wrinkles in Zuko’s robes are anything to go by, he’s been hunched over his desk for several hours now. Sokka reaches for Zuko’s hand and gently coaxes him out of his chair. He leads them toward bed where Sokka– minding his leg, scoots to lean back against the pillows. Once situated comfortably, he makes grabby hands for Zuko, pouting performatively.

Zuko manages a small, tired smile, before obliging him. He climbs into bed next to Sokka, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on his chest. Sokka returns the embrace, his hand sneaking up to comb through Zuko’s hair. Even if it’s Zuko’s bad ear pressed against him, Sokka knows he can feel the rise and fall, the heart beating underneath, so Sokka concentrates on keeping his breath steady. He waits patiently for Zuko to start speaking, he knows that his boyfriend has trouble unburdening himself when someone is _looking_ at him.

Zuko takes a deep breath of his own and begins. “The doctors don’t write me very often, but when they do– it’s not _always_ bad news, but more often than not, it is.” Sokka nods, he knows this much. “So when I got the letter today… this feeling of dread came over me– did she hurt someone? Did she hurt herself? Is she laughing through the night?”

Sokka squeezes Zuko encouragingly.

“I had to sit down before opening it,” Zuko continues. “I’m glad I did. I was expecting the worst, but the doctor’s notes were very general– cooperative during sessions, continuing to accept meals, passes the time reading– all good things, considering. But then he also wrote ‘ _She has requested to have a special meal for dinner on her 16_ _th_ _birthday’_. She–” Zuko’s voice cracks, his fist tightens in Sokka’s shirt. When he speaks next, his voice is small. “She’s only fifteen, Sokka.”

They’re _all_ so young. Sokka thinks of this often, how Toph and Aang hadn’t even had any signs of budding puberty before being thrust into the middle of the war. How all of them were child warriors, detached from any notion of what a _normal_ childhood might constitute.

“I’ve hated her for so long… envied her for longer… and she’s a child, Sokka. She didn’t ask for it any more than I did.”

“I don’t think you ever _hated_ her…” Sokka says. _But_ _I did_ , his mind supplies. _She tried to kill Aang, Katara… she almost got you._

“I thought I did,” Zuko says. “Growing up I often wondered, if she weren’t so _perfect_ , would father have hated me so much? Would I have had longer before he realized how _pathetic_ I was? It was all her fault. With how hard I was trying every day, it was easier to blame her for being so good, than myself for being so unworthy of his love.”

 _Ozai is not capable of love_ , Sokka thinks. _He could never deserve Zuko’s_.

“Father said she was ‘born lucky’… I’m starting to think that isn’t true.” Zuko sighs. “She wasn’t always so… scary, hurtful. She used to be kind and cuddly… but she learned quickly what was important to our father. Strength, cunning, fire power… but he wasn’t consistent. I remember dinners where he would snap at her, where he would deem her impudent and tactless… despite grinning at her insults the night before. She always looked so lost then… it was a break in the formula, an exception to the rule that had no rhyme or reason.”

Zuko chuckles– it’s a dark, rueful thing. “Eventually I figured out that _nothing_ I did could make my father happy. But Azula she… adapted, learned to read him better than even our own mother. I was so jealous of every ounce of praise and attention he gave her, and she flaunted it like her prize.” Zuko takes another deep breath. “She learned him– everything she did and everything she became… all for him.” 

Sokka’s at a loss for words. All he knows is that Zuko needs this– needs to just unleash everything he’s been churning over in his head for the last several hours.

“I never considered _myself_ lucky until that day,” he murmurs. “You should have seen her, Sokka, when she knew she lost. She just… broke, I couldn’t recognize her. She cried, screamed… blue flames spouting from her mouth… everything she knew was a lie. All she had was father’s word, father’s opinion. He hurt her…”

“He hurt _you_ ,” Sokka reminds. 

“I know,” he says. “But in an awful, twisted way… it was a mercy.”

“Zuko, _no_ ,” Sokka says, deepening the embrace. “You didn’t deserve this, any of this… don’t minimize your own pain–”

“I’m not,” Zuko clips. “Just… it’s different yeah? He let me go, he gave up on me… because of that I found Uncle, our friends, _you_ … people who see something good in me. I was so alone, Sokka.” A quiet sob. “If he hadn’t burned me… hadn’t _banished_ me… would I have still been alone? Would the war ever end? Would I have died thinking my father was _right?_ ”

Sokka kisses his hair. He doesn’t have an answer to his questions, but the idea makes him sick.

“Azula didn’t get that chance,” Zuko says, voice hardening. “Father’s last words to her were promoting her to Fire Lord, the ultimate stamp of approval. And then she lost. And then she was imprisoned–”

“She’s not in _jail_ –”

“She’s not free to go where she pleases, she has no control over her own schedule– _and_ none of those people work like him!” Zuko argues. “She’s not free. She never was… I can’t believe I never realized. She probably has no idea who she is without his approval.”

Sokka wants to help, wants to comfort him– he reminds Zuko about Mai and Ty Lee.

“She still thinks of what they did as betraying her,” Zuko says, shaking his head. “Our father is the only person who didn’t betray her. She doesn’t know that his love isn’t real… doesn’t have anything to compare to because–” Another sob. “I didn’t care enough to see that she needed it.”

“Hey now… stop that,” Sokka says, bopping him on the nose. “Up until, like, a year ago, _you_ didn’t know that you needed love, remember, ponytail?” He lays another kiss on his head. “And it’s still a daily chore to remind you that you _deserve_ it. Because you do. Jerkbender.”

Zuko knows better than to disagree with him, just as Sokka knows better than to think Zuko believes him.

Still, he feels the press of Zuko’s cheek against his chest, in what he hopes is a smile, then Zuko’s hands are guiding Sokka’s fingers to his lips. Zuko gently kisses his knuckles, then cups the hand around his cheek, leaning into it. Sokka tilts Zuko’s face up, then pouts sympathetically when he sees the fresh tears forming in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“She’s only fifteen, Sokka,” he repeats softly. “She needs me. She needs someone to– but I… I’m still _scared_ , and she–”

Sokka shushes him gently, sagging further against the pillows. “You need to take care of yourself first, baby,” he says. “You’re hurting, too.”

“Not like that,” Zuko says. “Everything she ever knew was a lie, and she had to find out alone. I have to do this.”

Sokka shakes his head. “You don’t, but I love that you want to,” he smiles. “You’re so brave Zuko… so much stronger than you realize, but you aren’t sleeping. You aren’t well. You can’t go to her when you’re not feeling like yourself… what if she doesn’t _want_ you there?”

“I _have_ to, Sokka. She’s my sister. I’ve failed her enough,” his frown deepens. “Mother would be disappointed in me.”

“She _absolutely_ would not be,” Sokka assures.

Clearly appealing to Zuko’s nonexistent sense of self-preservation was a mistake, so he aims for that beautiful, bleeding heart instead.

“If you and I were both dying, right here, right now… me just a bit worse off than you… would you carry me out the hallway, looking for help?”

Zuko’s answer is immediate: “Yes.”

“ _No_ ,” Sokka admonishes, squeezing his shoulder. “You might hurt yourself even worse trying to drag me out… you’d kill us both.”

Zuko squints. “I don’t think I like this game.”

“Hush, I’m having a profound moment of wisdom here,” Sokka says, tapping his nose again. Zuko frowns, but lets him continue. “If you tried to save me when _you_ were dying– we’d both be done for. But if you used what’s left of your strength to _go get help_ … find a healer, call a guard, whatever! If you did _that_ , you might actually save us.”

Sokka waits for his metaphor to click, but Zuko is still frowning when he says: “So you’re saying I should let the doctors continue to do their best? ‘ _Getting her help_ ’ is more important than me trying to help?”

“I’m _saying_ ,” Sokka says. He pauses, takes a deep breath. “I’m saying you’re _both_ bleeding out, baby.” 

Zuko's expression softens, but he doesn't deny it, so Sokka continues.

“If you try to do this while you’re not feeling 100%, you might make things worse for the both of you,” he says. “She’ll try to bait you... you might lash out… you’ll never forgive yourself if you say something that might set her progress back. You need to prove to her that you both can move past this, by working on yourself _first._ ”

Zuko reaches up, pulls Sokka down for a kiss. It’s soft and tentative, but full of _so_ much love– the love that the two of them rightfully deserve. Sokka feels the wetness of Zuko’s tears sliding down his cheek.

When he pulls away, he’s reminded once again of just how much Zuko is hurting. How difficult it is for him to live in his father’s palace, hold his title, speak to his generals and advisors. Every day his own conviction is challenged by people thrice his senior, as he tries to weave his love and heart into a nation born of hate and violence.

“What if I can’t?” Zuko whispers.

It hurts him that Zuko worries about this… that he thinks he’s just _stuck_ … that he doubts he can ever be past this.

“What if I just… _bleed out_ before I’m strong enough to help her?” Zuko asks.

“That’s not going to happen,” Sokka says confidently. “We _will_ get through this… together. You just need to focus on taking care of yourself a bit more, okay?”

Zuko shrugs minutely, so Sokka hardens his gaze, pressing their foreheads together. Zuko actually chuckles at that. “Okay,” he agrees. 

“Great!” Sokka chirps, pulling back. “Then first order of business is a nap! Tired Fire Lords can’t implement policy change!”

“Sleeping Fire Lords can’t attend their _important_ meetings.” Zuko retorts.

“See! Now you’re getting it!”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but Sokka quickly untangles them and leaps for the door. Before Zuko can protest, Sokka informs the two guards outside the door that the Fire Lord isn’t feeling well and won’t be able to attend his afternoon meetings.

Sokka comes back to the bed and helps Zuko shimmy under the covers. He goes to walk around to his own side, but Zuko catches him by the wrist and leans up to pull him into another kiss. 

“I love you,” Zuko whispers when they break.

Sokka smiles. “I love you, too.”

When Zuko releases him, Sokka eagerly climbs in on the opposite side to gather Zuko against his chest. He presses a kiss to the back of Zuko’s head. “You’re both going to be okay, you know,” he assures, reaching over to take Zuko’s hand. Zuko nods reluctantly. “Sleep first, save the world later.”

Zuko scoffs. “Seems like we’re always saving the world.”

Sokka pinches his hip. “Sleep first, philosophical platitudes later.”

It’s not going to happen overnight, Sokka knows, but it will get better.

**Author's Note:**

> Zukka Week but make it a pseudo character study of Azula 😬
> 
> Thanks for reading! 🥰 Comments and kudos are appreciated! 💕


End file.
